ays concealed from
me, father, the true ends of the Society into which I entered. I was
asked to abandon my free-will to my superiors, in the name of the Greater
Glory of God. My vows once pronounced, I was to be in your hands a docile
and obedient instrument; but I was to be employed, you told me, in a
holy, great and beauteous work. I believed you, father--how should I not
have believed you? but a fatal event changed my destiny--a painful malady
caused by--"
"My son," cried Father d'Aigrigny, interrupting Gabriel, "it is useless
to recall these circumstances."
"Pardon me, father, I must recall them. I have the right to be heard. I
cannot pass over in silence any of the facts, which have led me to take
the immutable resolution that I am about to announce to you."
"Speak on, my son," said Father d'Aigrigny, frowning; for he was much
alarmed at the words of the young priest, whose cheeks, until now pale,
were covered with a deep blush.
"Six months before my departure for America," resumed Gabriel, casting
down his eyes, "you informed me, that I was destined to confess
penitents; and to prepare then for that sacred ministry, you gave me a
book."
Gabriel again hesitated. His blushes increased. Father d'Aigrigny could
scarcely restrain a start of impatience and anger.
"You gave me a book," resumed the young priest, with a great effort to
control himself, "a book containing questions to be addressed by a
confessor to youths, and young girls, and married women, when they
present themselves at the tribunal of penance. My God!" added Gabriel,
shuddering at the remembrance. "I shall never forget that awful moment.
It was night. I had retired to my chamber, taking with me this book,
composed, you told me, by one of our fathers, and completed by a holy
bishop.[18] Full of respect, faith, and confidence, I opened those pages.
At first, I did not understand them--afterwards I understood--and then I
was seized with shame and horror--struck with stupor--and had hardly
strength to close, with trembling hand, this abominable volume. I ran to
you, father, to accuse myself of having involuntarily cast my eyes on
those nameless pages, which, by mistake, you had placed in my hands."
"Remember, also, my dear son," said Father d'Aigrigny, gravely, "that I
calmed your scruples, and told you that a priest, who is bound to hear
everything under the seal of confession, must be able to know and
appreciate everything; and that our Co
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